


Break Open Your Chest (Just To Count Your Heartbeats)

by everybreathagift



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Because submissive Hannibal is almost basically canon, Bottom Hannibal, Drunk Hannibal is my thing okay, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Top Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5188577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everybreathagift/pseuds/everybreathagift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Yes, I enjoy murdering and eating people, but I can't tell you I enjoy sexual submission.</i> How odd, even for Hannibal.</p>
<p>Or, in which Will gets Hannibal drunk so he'll admit he likes to be dominated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had people asking for more drunk Hannibal. I had people asking for BDSM. A story combining both. I'm not even sorry.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“This is a wonderful idea, from where I'm sitting.”

Which happened to be in Hannibal's lap, as it was easier for Will to talk him into things with close proximity. It'd start out as a firm ‘no’ until Will snuggled close, then it became a wavering ‘we shouldn't’ but when Will kissed his neck and dropped his voice, it always, always turned into an indulgent ‘yes.’

“For you, perhaps. I've seen myself inebriated, the sight isn't welcoming.”

Will kissed Hannibal's pulse point to cover his smile. “Do you get mean? My dad always got mean.”

Hannibal didn't sigh but it was glaringly apparent he wanted to. Will had to smile, then. “Not mean, no. I just simply lose the ability to choose my words carefully.”

“Oh my God,” Will grinned, feigning shock. “Hannibal Lecter gets mouthy. Stuffy, impeccable Hannibal Lecter turns into a _human._ Yes, this is a wonderful idea.” 

“I'm human. I'm just well-mannered, which is more than I can say for my husband.”

“Fuck off,” Will says, just to prove his point. He kisses the adorable wrinkle in Hannibal's nose -it appears every time Will curses- and stands up. “Tequila. If you're lucky, I'll teach you the art of body shots.”

“You're not partaking,” Hannibal realized, extremely close to sounding petulant.

“Oh, no. I'm gonna be perfectly sober for this.”

“Of course you are.”

Will grinned and opened the fridge, pulling out three limes and the bottle of _1800._ “Come cut these for me. And kiss me while you're at it, I can't stand the sulking.” Will demanded fondly.

As Will reached for the shot glass above him, he felt strong fingers press into his waist before he was spun, insistent lips against his. Hannibal always kissed like he was consuming and this time was no different. With a thigh wedged between Will's legs, Hannibal pulled Will against him, forcing a groan from Will. 

But Will knew better and, after enjoying the slide of Hannibal's tongue a moment longer, he pulled back, refusing to sound as breathless as he felt. “You're not distracting me.”

“I could,” Hannibal promised, voice pitched low. “You seem to struggle with coherent thought when I'm between your thighs.”

He was right, Will knew it. Hannibal was made to suck cock, but Will had plans. It wasn't only mere curiosity that had him concocting all this. What Will needed was to lower Hannibal's carefully constructed veneer enough to get the truth out of him.

Hannibal had a secret, and Will couldn't figure out for the life of him why. As though he needed to keep anything from Will, at this point. Especially when it was related to their sex life.

_Yes, I enjoy murdering and eating people, but I can't tell you I enjoy sexual submission._ How odd, even for Hannibal.

Honestly, Will had just assumed Hannibal was a strict top, and with how easily they came together that way, how right and perfectly synchronized they were, he never questioned it. 

But then Will started noticing tiny things. Like the way Hannibal's eyes would go nearly black when Will would pull his hair a little too roughly. How he'd shiver and immediately obey when Will told him to suck harder. How Hannibal had come instantly when Will had looked down and called him -jokingly, at the time- a good boy.

Maybe with liquor, Will could get Hannibal to open up. 

“Your mouth _is_ lovely. But you're not getting out of this.”

“Very well,” Hannibal agreed, pushing the sleeves of his cashmere sweater to his elbows and grabbing a knife. “You couldn't find something more suitable to do this with?”

Will rolled his eyes. “No, I'm not getting you drunk on four-thousand dollar liquor. Just think, it's practically _drug store._ ” Will threw in a shudder but couldn't stop his smile. 

“You're vile. Shall we get this over with, then?”

Will was practically giddy with excitement. “Come on, it won't be that bad.”

“If it keeps that smile on your face, I'd drink the bottle and ask for more.”

In anyone else's mouth, the words would've been saccharine, ridiculous, but in Hannibal's genuine voice, they made Will melt a little. Enough that he had to press close to Hannibal and nuzzle his neck for a moment. 

Will grabbed the salt and hopped up on the counter, next to the freshly sliced lime, and poured a shot. “Alright, here we go.”

Hannibal stood between Will's legs, typically calm stare plastered on his beautiful face. Will licked his hand and then doused it with salt. “Suck.”

Hannibal's eyes darkened as he mouthed the expanse of skin between Will's thumb and pointer finger. Will watched as he downed the shot, then pulled the lime from Will's fingers with his teeth. 

His face never changed. “That is, without a doubt, the lowest quality liquid I've consumed in many years.”

“Yup,” Will agreed, pouring another shot. 

They teased each other as the bottle emptied, Will biting Hannibal's neck, Hannibal gripping Will's thighs as he kissed the lime from his mouth. Will, of course, paid extremely close attention to Hannibal, watching for signs that the liquor was doing its job. 

He noticed the line of Hannibal's shoulders first, how it began to soften from perfect posture to a normal set. Then, Hannibal's smile grew wider, showed more teeth, his laugh slightly louder. 

Hannibal, pure and unfiltered, was the most beautiful thing Will had ever seen. Even more so when he pulled Will to the living room for a waltz, humming something in Will's ear. 

“I'm a terrible dancer.”

“You're terrible at nothing. Dancing, like anything else, takes practice. I've not done it in so long that I'm a bit rusty.”

He didn't feel rusty, leading Will in perfectly coordinated movements that made Hannibal appear to be floating. Even buzzed, he moved gracefully.

Then, he was back in the kitchen, taking another shot and forgoing the salt and lime. His lips smacked when he finished. Will was grinning like a madman. 

“Happy, my dear? I believe I am, sufficiently, drunk.” Hannibal grinned, _grinned_ , all lopsided and beautiful as he pulled Will close. He smelled of liquor and Will's aftershave. 

“You're getting there,” Will replied, unable to keep the smile from his face as Hannibal pressed close.

“You're so gorgeous,” Hannibal breathed, dragging his fingers over Will's chest. “You've always been so _fucking_ gorgeous.”

It sounded obscene in Hannibal's mouth, heavily accented and lilted. It sounded downright filthy, and it made Will's cock jump.

Will had to kiss him, then, licking faint tequila from his mouth for a moment. “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you.” 

It was true, Hannibal was fucking gorgeous, especially like this, his hair in his eyes and cheeks tinged pink. Will wanted to devour him.

“I'm _exotic_ ,” Hannibal replied, rolling his eyes like an adorable teenager. “I'm different, something like an old lamp from generations ago that's hardly anything to look at save for its novelty. But you…” Hannibal traced Will's cheek with his fingertip, dragging it to Will's jaw and over his lips. “You're the truest definition of beauty. Timeless. Despite your attempts to make it so, you could never be average.”

Will didn't preen but he came pretty damned close, kissing Hannibal again until they were both breathless. 

Hannibal kissed his throat. “This tequila is soon to be forgotten if you continue kissing me.”

“And wouldn't that be a travesty,” Will muttered, pressing Hannibal into the counter and tangling his fingers in Hannibal's hair. 

“For the record, I'm giving you full permission to take advantage of my weakened state. Informed consent, it's a thing, here.”

_A thing_. Hannibal speaking like a normal human being. Will had to laugh. 

“Is it ‘a thing?’" Will teased, drowning in hazy amber eyes.

“It is,” Hannibal nodded, then pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it haphazardly to the floor. 

And there he was, all hard muscle and sinful lines, in just grey slacks, hair feathered across his face and lips slick, staring at Will like he held the secret to eternal life. Will's heart pounded in his chest.

Moment of truth. Hopefully.

“Would you like me to take advantage of you?”

“More than you know,” Hannibal whispered, tugging at Will's belt to loosen it. 

“And if I told you to get on your knees?”

Will was almost nervous, almost afraid that Hannibal wasn't drunk enough to take the bait. But Will was so hard already.

Hannibal's fingers faltered and he dropped his head, resting it against Will's chest. He shivered. “Happily.”

“And if I told you that you couldn't come? If I said that I wanted to wrap my belt around your wrists, fuck your throat until my knees buckle and you can't come?”

Then, Hannibal said the one word that Will rarely, if ever, heard from him outside of pleasantries, voice brutal and shaking. “ _Please_.”

Will had to take a moment to breathe, to stop himself from throwing Hannibal over the counter right then. His cock was heavy between his legs, shoulders filled with tension as he put a finger under Hannibal's chin and lifted. 

He'd never seen Hannibal's eyes so dark, his face so openly desperate. 

“And if I said I wanted to fuck you?”

“Oh, Christ,” Hannibal breathed, eyes falling shut as he quickly began working on Will's belt again. He was flushed all the way down to his chest. “Please, Will? Please? I've no issues with begging.”

“Tell me what you want, Hannibal.”

Hannibal groaned, broken and raw, more expression than Will had ever heard from him. “I've seen your capacity for sadism and I've wished so deeply to be on the receiving end of it. Your cruelty is breathtaking. To be under you, my only thoughts of your pleasure. To be allowed the rare chance of vulnerability.”

Will realized, too late, that this was, in fact, a terrible idea, because with Hannibal drunk, he couldn't fulfill his wishes. Their relationship might have blossomed under unconventional terms, but Will would never cross the boundary of truly informed consent. Despite the fact that he was so hard, it hurt. 

But tomorrow…. Tomorrow, when Hannibal was sober and the polished composure had returned, it would be a different story. Tomorrow, Will would pull every little fantasy from Hannibal's mind with his teeth.

“Tomorrow. I want you fully aware.”

Hannibal looked physically pained, thrusting the length of his cock against Will's. “I fear I won't be the same person tomorrow. I'm not so drunk as to be unaware that I'm drunk.”

“Then you should understand why I say tomorrow. And trust that you'll be the same person without the liquor, for me. Because I want you to be.”

“I just…” Hannibal sighed, burying his face in Will's neck. “I just want…” He pulled Will's shirt down a bit, kissing Will's collarbone. 

“I want, too, trust me.” Will emphasized his point by tugging at Hannibal's hair, his cock aching when Hannibal moaned freely. 

“You're so _fucking_ hard. Let me make you come. In any way you wish. Take me to bed and do things I'll never be able to ask you for tomorrow.”

Will groaned and pressed his nose to Hannibal's cheek, trying desperately to calm his racing heart. He could. He could take Hannibal to their room, push him face down into the bed and fuck him until he screamed. Until Will was panting and boneless. Hannibal wouldn't mind, even tomorrow, Will knew he'd love it, in fact. 

Will was a lot of things; crazy, socially inept, murderous, but he wasn't _that._

So, with a deep sigh, he kissed Hannibal softly and promised. “Tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, forgive any errors.

As it turned out, ‘tomorrow’ had been a promise Will couldn't entirely keep. Will discovered the one thing Hannibal didn't handle gracefully; hangovers. When Will woke up, Hannibal was sleeping on his stomach -a man who, almost pathologically, only slept on his back with Will curled into his chest- and had his face shoved into the pillow.

“I hate you,” Hannibal said gruffly, muffled against the pillowcase, when he felt Will lean over him. 

“Dr. Lecter, how unbecoming,” Will teased, kissing between Hannibal's shoulder blades. “You smell like a bar.”

“And I'll continue to do so until this wretched pounding in my temples stops.”

Chuckling, Will rolled off the bed and threw on a t-shirt. “I'll get you some aspirin. Wow,” he paused when he reached the other side of the bed. “You should see your hair.”

Hannibal opened one eye and glared. “You can survive without your tongue, you realize. I've a new recipe I've been itching to try.”

Will's smile was so wide as he made his way to the kitchen, it nearly hurt. 

That day was spent coddling his very grumpy husband, until Hannibal couldn't remember why he was upset to start.

As the days past, Will couldn't figure out a suitable way to reproach the conversation. Hannibal seemed content to pretend it never happened, but it nagged at Will, like an itch he couldn't quite reach. 

Will decided he'd integrate slowly, now that he knew, for certain, it was something Hannibal wanted to explore. More of his previous discoveries, but with deliberate purpose. Pulling Hannibal's hair, commanding him to tighten his lips, or to fuck Will faster. Every little reaction he received from Hannibal just furthered Will's desire to push harder, pull more from him. 

Will wanted it all. Everything Hannibal could give him.

However, Will wanting for anything these days did horrible things to his self control, apparently, and one night, as he rode Hannibal's cock, he didn't hold back.

Wrapping his hand around Hannibal's throat, Will squeezed as he tightened himself around his husband.

“Don't come.”

Hannibal groaned and thrust up hard, clenching his eyes shut as his breathing became shallow. Will squeezed his throat tighter.

“Will, I can't-”

“Come, and you won't touch me for a week.”

Hannibal gasped, pinning Will with nearly black eyes before he stopped breathing all together. Moments of inhuman stillness and then, very decidedly, Hannibal came.

**  
It was a test, really, not only to see how Hannibal would react but also to see if Will could say it. Once the moment had passed, Will wanted to see if either of them could handle it. 

It had been blatantly apparent that Hannibal _chose_ this. He wanted to see, too. Curiosity, it fueled them both. Will, however, wanted to see Hannibal break, and with how affectionate his husband was, Will thought this was a decent way to achieve it.

The first day wasn't terribly difficult, because it was at the forefront of Will's mind. Reminding himself not to curl into Hannibal's side as he read, not to kiss Hannibal's neck while he cooked, not to pull Hannibal against his chest while they slept. 

The second day, as well as the third and fourth, were much of the same, save for the subtle changes in Hannibal's demeanor. He stood closer to Will as they browsed the markets, leaned over him to serve his food, sat as close as possible while they lounged. It drove Will insane, mad with desire to feel Hannibal again, but he wouldn't give in. 

The fifth day, it happened. Will was sitting in their dining room, reading on Hannibal's tablet when his husband dropped to his knees before him, directly between Will's legs.

“Touch me. _Please_ , I-” Hannibal's voice broke. “Anything. A kiss. Your fingers in mine. Anything. Just touch me, Will.”

Will barely, and only barely, managed to hold back his groan of frustration. Hannibal looked desperate and it made Will hurt with lust and brutal desire. He wanted, God, he wanted, but he wouldn't. Not when Hannibal was so close to finally, truly giving in. 

“Two more days.”

Hannibal, in pressed slacks and Oxford shirt, not a hair out of place, _whimpered_. Low in his throat, teeth digging into his bottom lip, brow drawn, Will had to close his eyes at the sight to avoid giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. 

“I've experienced many variations of pain in my life, but nothing as cruel as this.”

 _Your cruelty is breathtaking_ , Hannibal had said.

“A cruelty you chose, if I recall correctly,” Will murmured, staring down at Hannibal again. He was half-hard, stomach clenched with want. He knew Hannibal felt the same, possibly even more so.

“Yes, but I never truly believed you'd do it."

“Did you _want_ me to do it?”

Hannibal shivered under Will's gaze, breaking eye contact for the first time that Will could ever remember. “Yes,” he whispered. Then, “I'll beg.”

“Would you?” Will asked, voice rough as he openly palmed his cock through his pants. “Do you think it would get you anywhere?”

Hannibal didn't answer, hooded eyes focused solely on Will's hand. It was all or nothing, Will decided, heart pounding in his chest. This would be the moment he'd make Hannibal's desires surface entirely. 

With a groan, he freed his cock, slouching down in the chair a bit as he gave himself a lazy stroke. Hannibal licked his lips and dug his fingers into his own thighs. 

“I'd take your mouth right now, if I could. Fit myself snugly in your throat until you struggled to breathe. If only you'd been a good boy.”

“Oh, God,” Hannibal breathed, inching closer to Will on his knees, seemingly without thought. He didn't touch, but Will saw his fingers twitch in his lap. “Please, Will. Let me. I'll-”

“You'll what, Hannibal?”

He swallowed hard. “I'll be good,” he said, voice small and weak, a sound so foreign to Will's ears that it made him shiver. 

Will gripped himself tighter, stroking more steadily as he looked down at his husband, unfairly gorgeous between his legs. This pristine, perfectly manicured man, breaking down at his feet. Will wanted to take him apart, piece by piece, until Hannibal faded into nothingness, only for Will to make him whole again.

“Two days,” Will reiterated, almost panting as he twist his wrist over the head. “God, this is good. You'd feel better.”

Hannibal made a noise and dropped his chin to his chest, taking a shuddering breath. When he looked back, his eyes were nearly black, lips swollen from his own teeth, and Will wanted so badly to consume him.

Grunting, Will covered the head of his cock with his free hand, coming into his palm with a wracked shudder. Hannibal looked on helplessly, pressing the heel of his hand between his legs. 

After a few deep breaths, Will tucked himself away and stood, looming over Hannibal. He felt powerful, Hannibal so utterly desperate for anything and Will was drunk with it. Holding out his palm, he watched as Hannibal moaned softly and leaned in to taste, but Will pulled it back just as quickly.

“Two days,” Will said lightly, walking to the bathroom to clean himself up. He heard Hannibal's groan down the hallway and had to grin.

The sixth day was the hardest for both of them. They'd had plans to go to a play that night, something Will couldn't even pronounce but that Hannibal was very excited about, so in turn, Will was excited to see Hannibal see it. 

Getting dressed to go anywhere with Hannibal was a treat, but especially events that required dressing up. Many times, dressing was as far as they'd get, because Hannibal would wind up making a mess of Will's suit, or Will would soak the front of Hannibal's trousers with his tongue and teeth. 

This time, however, was tense. Not uncomfortable or awkward, but a very deliberate dance that neither of them could remember the steps to. Will was so used to Hannibal tying his ties that he could barely recall how to do it himself. Hannibal struggled with getting a close enough shave without Will doing it for him. 

By the time they were mostly finished, Hannibal was hard and Will was wondering what the difference between six and seven days truly was. 

In the end, it was the principle of it, but that didn't make Will hate it any less. He needed _something_.

As Hannibal stood in front of the mirror to check himself over one last time -he didn't have his jacket on yet-, Will walked up behind him, close enough to feel his heat but not touch. He leaned in to Hannibal's neck and slowly breathed in. 

“You smell nice.”

“As do you. My cologne has always suited you better.”

Hannibal was trying hard to keep his voice steady, but Will saw how tightly he gripped the counter. He caught Hannibal's gaze in the mirror and dropped his voice.

“You've been hard for nearly two days straight. You must be aching by now.”

“Like I've never felt before,” Hannibal breathed as his eyes closed. Will wasn't sure Hannibal even realized he was leaning back ever so slightly, unconsciously trying to gain some form of contact with Will. 

“Let me see,” Will said, moving back to lean against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, curious whether Hannibal would listen or complain about the possibility of them being late. 

Hannibal only hesitated for a moment before he shivered, head bowing to avoid Will's stare as he pulled himself free, moaning slightly at the feel of his own hand.

“That looks painful,” Will said nonchalantly, though it was true. The head was near purple, already glistening at the tip, curving beautifully towards Hannibal's stomach. “It'd hardly take anything, would it? A few strokes, at best.”

Hannibal bit his bottom lip and swayed slightly. “Your voice alone might prove sufficient, at this point.”

“Would it?” Will grinned, feeling his own hardness in response. He felt buzzed with the strength of Hannibal's desperation. 

Smoothly, Will slid to his knees in front of Hannibal, looking up at him through his lashes. Immediately, Hannibal gripped the base of his cock tightly. 

“I never said you couldn't come. I just said it wouldn't be from my touch.”

Hannibal made a needy sound in his throat, clenching his eyes shut. “I don't want it to be from my hand.”

And if that wasn't the sexiest thing Will had ever heard. He leaned forward, just barely fighting the urge to taste the tip as he blew a long line of hot breath up the underside of Hannibal's cock. Will watched it pulse, and saw Hannibal's knees give a little.

“Will,” Hannibal choked, jaw slack. 

“Don't come.”

Hannibal groaned, but tightened his hand at the base. “You just said-”

“Don't come, or it's another week.”

Will stood and straightened his suit, studiously ignoring his squirming husband as he turned to walk out. “Better get moving. I know how you loathe being late.”

**

Will would be lying if he said he could recall any of their time at the theater. He was far too busy in his head, deciding how he wanted the rest of the night to play out. The decision was made when Hannibal, unconsciously, slid his hand into Will's during the play, then immediately pulled away, forcing his hand back to his lap. 

“That was lovely,” Hannibal said as they walked back to his Bentley, the crowd thinning around them. “Though, some scenes have added dialogue since I saw it last. It's nearly eleven.”

“I hope you don't expect me to recall any of it,” Will said honestly, sliding into the passenger seat. The night air was chilly and dry, making Will's skin pebble with goosebumps even through his overcoat.

“You spent the majority of the night with your eyes on me, I'd be a fool to think you could recollect what took place on stage,” Hannibal smiled warmly, starting the car. 

“You're far more interesting. Never mind that I couldn't understand a word they were speaking, anyway.”

“Nonsense. Your French has improved drastically.”

“I know how to order your ridiculously overpriced wine. Not follow an entire play.”

“Then I'll have to reevaluate my teaching methods,” Hannibal said, giving a small smile when Will gruffed.

Will had never been more grateful that Hannibal had chosen a cottage so far from the city. It was minutes after midnight when they arrived home, and Will's heart sped as they walked up to the door.

Hannibal almost dropped the keys when Will kissed his neck gently, murmuring in his ear, “It's past midnight.”

Groaning, Hannibal spun, keys dangling in the knob as he pressed his lips to Will's, pulling him closer by his jacket lapels. Will pushed Hannibal into the door, hands on his face as he kissed him deeply. He felt starved, like he hadn't tasted Hannibal in years, and he wanted to devour him. Every part of him.

Hannibal's hands slid under Will's jacket, insistent fingers digging into Will's back as he moaned. 

“Open the door,” Will breathed against Hannibal's lips.

“Please, don't stop touching me,” Hannibal whispered, clinging tightly. 

Will had a fleeting thought of just taking him right there on the porch, but managed to step back enough for Hannibal to unlock the door. Once inside, Will immediately pulled Hannibal's jacket from his shoulders, then his own, throwing them somewhere off to the side as he took Hannibal's lips again. 

Hannibal's fingers found Will's tie, deftly removing it as Will pressed him into the wall. He only managed to get two of Will's shirt buttons undone before he groaned pitifully and cupped Will's hard cock instead. 

“You cannot understand-"

“I do,” Will whispered urgently. “I know. Me, too.”

“I want you.”

Will's hands were everywhere and his thoughts were scattered. All he knew for certain was that he ached, craved Hannibal's touch more than air. All of his carefully thought out plans left his mind. 

Will decided he'd improvise, and make up for it tomorrow, when he wasn't so desperate to come.

Thankful that Hannibal had forgone his usual waistcoat, he all but ripped Hannibal's shirt open, entirely unconcerned as buttons pinged against the floor. Hannibal wasn't too concerned either, apparently, as he whimpered and let the tattered fabric fall from arms, never letting go of Will's lips. 

“On your knees.”

Hannibal shivered and, without hesitation, gracefully slid to the floor, looking up at Will like he held the universe in his palm. Will watched his bare chest as it heaved.

Will's hands shook as he opened his pants, shuddering at the feel of his cool fingers on his overheated skin. Hannibal licked his lips, sliding his hands up Will's thighs. 

“Ask me for it,” Will demanded softly, fingering the head inches away from Hannibal's waiting mouth.

“ _Please_ ,” Hannibal whispered raggedly, expression completely open and wanting. “Use my mouth.”

Will held his breath as he slid himself between Hannibal's lips, praying he wouldn't come immediately. Tight, slick warmth enveloped him and he huffed, one palm pressed to the wall as the other slid into Hannibal's hair. 

Hannibal, painting a scene straight from those filthy arthouse films he'd made Will watch, shirtless and perfectly mussed hair, hollowed out his cheeks and pressed his tongue against the head, massaging gently in every way Will liked. 

Will fought not to thrust his hips, wanting to prolong and savor every second, but when Hannibal took him deeper, Will couldn't stop himself from arching.

“Good boy,” Will breathed, then gripped Hannibal's hair tighter. “God, you're such a good boy. So proud of how well you did this week.”

Hannibal made a high pitched noise around Will's cock, then pulled back, gasping. “Will, I'll come if you keep speaking, I-”

“So, come,” Will growled, stomach tensing at the realization of Hannibal being that close without any contact. He pushed back into Hannibal's throat roughly. “That won't stop me from using you until _I'm_ satisfied.”

Hannibal groaned and clawed into Will's hips, the bite of pain forcing another growl from Will as he rested his head against the wall, looking down at his husband.

Will fucked Hannibal's throat with abandon, digging his nails into Hannibal's scalp and murmuring words of lust. Hannibal was as desperate as Will had ever seen him, seemingly unconcerned with breathing as he took Will to the base and held him there, flexing his throat.

“Fuck, look at you,” Will whispered, pressure coiling low in his belly. “You were made for this.”

When Hannibal whined and looked up through watery lashes, Will knew he couldn't hold back any longer. Grunting, he pulled out, yanking Hannibal's hair to pull his head back as Will tugged harshly at the head of his cock.

“Open.”

Hannibal, still graceful as ever, relaxed his jaw and presented his tongue, looking more beautiful and carnal than Will had ever seen him. Will sighed when the first wave of pleasure left him, striped white into Hannibal's mouth, then groaned and clenched his eyes shut as he shuddered through the rest. 

Will barely managed to tuck himself away before his knees buckled and hit the floor, still panting as he pulled his trembling husband to him, positioning him onto Will's lap.

Hannibal buried his face in Will's neck, nuzzling in a way Will had never felt from him before. Will wrapped his arms tight around him and kissed his hair, feeling boneless and ridiculously happy.

“Did you-”

“Mmm,” Hannibal hummed lazily, kissing Will's jaw. “The moment it left your lips.”

“I'm almost disappointed that I missed it,” Will murmured, running his hand over the warm skin of Hannibal's back. Almost, because he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so wholly focused on his own pleasure. It was intoxicating, how good it felt, how Hannibal had responded.

“Does this mean you'll be withholding touch in the future, so that you might experience my state with full appreciation?”

“Do you want me to?”

Hannibal paused, and then nodded against Will's throat, pressing even closer. 

“Well, not any time soon,” Will sighed, resting his cheek against Hannibal, giving up the fight of keeping his eyes open. “I missed this too much. I'll have to find other ways to drive you mad with desire.”

“You exist. That's all that's required.”

Will's heart felt full to bursting. Sitting on the uncomfortable floor of their foyer, holding a very relaxed Hannibal in his lap, he'd never felt more satisfied. 

“I had other plans for tonight, but you distracted me.”

“We've got time. Hopefully, many years worth.” Hannibal's voice was practically dreamy. It made Will's heart pound.

Will slid a finger under Hannibal's chin and lifted to press a gentle kiss to his swollen lips. “Ready for bed?”

“I'm not sure. I seem to have lost my legs.”

Will chuckled, kissing him again. “We'll find them tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morbidly creepy dirty talk. I don't know what these two are doing.

For the first time in ages, they slept in. Will was so used to being woken with breakfast that he almost panicked when he felt a body wrapped around him. 

Hannibal looked so peaceful in his sleep, lashes fanning over his cheeks and lips slightly pursed, Will had to kiss him. It was gentle, just a brush, but enough to make Hannibal stir and pull Will against him. 

“Good morning,” Hannibal murmured, eyes still closed.

“It is. You're still in the bed.”

“Mm,” Hannibal sighed, stealing another small kiss. “You were far too warm when I attempted to get up.”

“I didn't even think you were capable of sleeping in. Are you okay? Are you running fever?”

Hannibal tightened his grip. “Hush, or I'll let you starve.”

Chuckling, Will snuggled closer, more than happy to keep Hannibal in the bed for as long as he'd allow. Hannibal was perfectly relaxed, nuzzling against Will much like a cat and dropping soft kisses over Will's cheeks. 

If there were to be a decent time for a conversation, this was it. Where Hannibal couldn't hide from him. 

“So, can we talk about this?” Will asked softly, nothing accusatory, brushing his knuckles over Hannibal's throat. “An actual conversation that doesn't include the removal of our clothes?”

“I'd rather we didn't,” Hannibal responded resolutely.

“That's the issue I'm having. You've never shied away from open communication with me. It bothers me that you'd start now. After everything.”

Hannibal wouldn't meet Will's eyes, and he stayed quiet just long enough for Will to consider dropping it entirely. “How does one open a box they've intentionally welded shut for most of their adult life?”

“They accept that their husband will pry it open with brute force, otherwise.” 

That, at the very least, got a smile from Hannibal. It wasn't wide, no, just a crinkle of his eyes, but it did ridiculous things to Will's heart. 

“I think I get it, though,” Will continued. “You've worked so hard to perfect your control, to always own every possible situation and outcome, that giving it up is both the most terrifying and most erotic thing you can imagine.”

Hannibal closed his eyes, then, shoulders tensing even as he leaned toward Will. “It's horribly disconcerting, even now, to be seen so thoroughly by another person.”

“We'll work on it. And, luckily for you, I'm pretty amazing,” Will quipped, pulling Hannibal into his arms. “No fluffy ears or dog collars, though. Even I have limits.”

“I think I'd look quite charming with a tail,” Hannibal replied, perfectly indignant. 

“The stupid thing is that you would,” Will agreed, kissing Hannibal soundly for a moment. “You pulled off plaid suits, for God's sake. It's practically sorcery.”

“You were wrong, however,” Hannibal said quietly after a few moments of silence.

“Hmm?”

Leaning up on one elbow, he looked down into Will's eyes, his own maroon shining bright with passion. “The most terrifying thing I can imagine is losing you.”

**

“I bought something today. A few somethings.” Will said nonchalantly, even if he felt anything but, as Hannibal prepared dinner.

“If you tell me it's a few dogs, I'll be sorely disappointed that you took that joy from me.”

“I don't buy dogs,” Will huffed, stealing a small piece of red bell pepper from Hannibal's chopping block to pop in his mouth. “I adopt them. Wait, you want to get me a dog?”

“Was that a blatant attempt to force me into removing your fingers? Out, or make yourself useful with the veal.” Then, a beat later. “What did you purchase?”

“You'll see. After dinner. What is this?”

“Veal scallopini in a sweet red pepper sauce. Something simple for tonight. Should I be concerned?”

“Yup,” Will nodded, ignoring the comment of making himself useful in favor of simply sitting at the bar to watch. “You need a word.”

It was slight, almost imperceptible, but the tensing of Hannibal's shoulders was very apparent to Will. Instinctively, Will wanted to smooth it away with his fingers and lips, but he knew Hannibal well enough. He knew he'd have to drag this out of him, as forward and direct as possible. 

“A word?”

“Yes. A word. Something that lets me know you want to stop.”

“A safeword,” Hannibal murmured, scraping the chopped vegetables into the skillet. “So, I can assume that whatever you've purchased pertains to my proclivities.”

“Our proclivities,” Will corrected. “And, yes.”

Hannibal fell silent, then, focusing on their meal and keeping his back to Will. His breathing changed slightly, and the surgeon steadiness of his hands lessened. Just as Will started to stand to touch him, reassure him, he spoke.

“Teacup.”

**

Dinner was tense. Hannibal was unusually silent through most of it, which bled into Will's nervousness. He had to remind himself to be patient, to keep Hannibal present and with him, in the moment, until Hannibal was more comfortable in his submission.

They washed dishes in silence, gentle touches passing between them before Will took Hannibal's hand and led him to the bedroom. He could feel Hannibal's tentative steps, and his hitch of breath as they entered. 

“I want you to look at each item. Touch the ones you're interested in, and then we'll talk about them. Anything you don't touch will never be used. If you're unsure, tell me.”

He had laid out each implement on their bed. The shop he'd found in the city had a wide range of choices, some he hadn't even known what they were for, so he kept it relatively simple with things he felt comfortable using. They'd learn together, and broaden later. 

Hannibal was perfectly still while Will took seat in the corner chair, staring at the bed with a blank look. He moved closer, but still didn't touch, and Will could see his breathing speed up. Finally, he skimmed his fingertips over one, then another, inspecting one before touching it and hesitating before another. In the end, he only ignored a single item. 

“Come here,” Will said softly, holding his hand out. Hannibal took it and allowed himself to be pulled down, sitting between Will's thighs with his back to Will's chest. “Are you okay?”

Hannibal exhaled, relaxing into Will, but only slightly. “I am now.”

Closeness. Hannibal felt better being close to Will. He filed that away.

“How did you feel about the wrist cuffs?”

“Binding me seems to be a general requirement.”

“No,” Will responded quickly. “I'm not asking about expectations or what you think should happen. I want to know how you feel. What went through your head when you saw them and knew they were meant for you?”

Hannibal gripped Will's thigh briefly, then smoothed the fabric beneath his fingers. “I felt- I wish to have them. I want to know that I'm incapable of fighting you.”

“Good,” Will praised, nuzzling against him. “The choke collar. Asphyxiation.”

The shudder that ran through Hannibal was barely visible, but Will could've spotted it from across the room. 

“Highly pleasing, though, I'd prefer your hands.”

Hannibal's voice had gone rough, and Will could feel the ache growing persistent between his legs.

“How am I supposed to make it through this conversation without ravaging you? Christ,” Will muttered, then took a deep breath to clear his head. “My hands. Got it. No thought given to the blindfold?”

“I wish to see you.” Hannibal paused, looking down. “I may require some grounding. Being able to see you will help.”

Will nodded and kissed his neck again. “No blindfold, then. Tell me why your hand shook when you touched the leather strap?”

“That's- That's what I've always imagined. The few times I've allowed myself to.”

Groaning, Will held him tighter. “I can't wait to use it on you. The scalpel, too. Which, by the way, I thought you'd immediately pass over.”

Hannibal didn't squirm, but Will could feel the tension in the line of Hannibal's shoulders as he leaned further into Will. 

Hannibal took a slow breath. “The idea of scars from you has never been unwelcome.”

“Talk to me, Hannibal. Please. Tell me what you're actually thinking. I hate not knowing.”

“In plain terms, I'm a masochist. If past experiences are worth anything, I'd venture to say extremely so. Your hands delivering the pain has the potential to prove dangerous, if we're not careful.”

“You always did like the thought of me killing you.”

“My point exactly. Choosing a word may have been useless.”

Instinctively, Will squeezed him tighter. Understanding his apprehension made things easier; Will trusted Hannibal, even if Hannibal didn't trust himself. 

Will lowered his voice, pressing his lips to Hannibal's nape. “You'll use your word because I want you to. Because you wish to please me. Understood?”

“I-,” Hannibal stopped, cleared his throat and tried again. “I'm afraid there might not be a limit for me. Wishing for you to stop could be unattainable.”

“Alright,” Will agreed, spreading his fingers over Hannibal's heart. “Then I'll never put you in a position to use it. Can you be satisfied with me breaking you, but not eradicating you?”

Just the thought of damaging him beyond repair made Will feel sick in his gut. 

“Yes,” Hannibal whispered, covering Will's hand with his own. “Yes, I can.”

“I'm nervous, too, you know,” Will murmured. “I'm just as new to this as you are.”

“What troubles you?”

“I'm worried I won't live up to expectation. That, after all the years you've buried this part of yourself, I'll make you regret letting it surface.”

“That's hardly possible,” Hannibal said simply.

“Tell me that again after. Please.”

**

“Your word,” Will urged softly against Hannibal's lips, pushing his shirt of his shoulders. “I don't intend to make you use it, but just so I'll feel better.”

“Teacup,” Hannibal clarified, clutching Will's hips with unsure fingers.

“Good boy,” Will praised quietly, smiling at the shudder that traveled the length of Hannibal's spine. He slid his slacks and underwear down his legs, trailing his fingers gently over the taut skin of Hannibal's thigh, a smile tugging at his lips to see Hannibal was already thickening. 

“Your scent is different,” Hannibal said as he lie on the bed, measured and practiced calm that Will could see right through. 

“I'm nervous,” Will admitted, fingering the cuffs in his hands. “And you're absurdly gorgeous, so I'm trying very hard to keep myself from simply taking you. My self control is severely lacking, in case you've never noticed.”

“I had no idea,” Hannibal remarked wryly, stretching out in an almost cat-like arch. “I've no intention of helping you with that, by the way.”

Will grinned, looking down at the ridiculously impeccable man that was, somehow, his. “On your stomach, before I do exactly what I wish and don't allow you to come.”

That strangled Hannibal's voice, muscles growing tight as he gracefully turned over, resting his head on his forearms. Will pulled his arms above his head, securing one wrist and then the other to the headboard, trailing his fingertips over Hannibal's biceps. 

Will's heart pounded, seeing Hannibal this way. Vulnerable, hips arched slightly off the bed, slow, controlled breaths stretching the skin over his ribs.

“Christ, you're beautiful. I don't think I'll ever get used to it.”

Taking a deep breath, Will picked up the leather strap, testing its weight. It wasn't terribly thick or heavy, but repetitive strikes with it would serve just enough. If only he could decide where he wanted to mark first. 

The first stroke was light against Hannibal's thigh, hardly even enough to sting, but Hannibal sighed and melted into the bed. The next one was harder, catching Hannibal's side, Will judging the difference of location and pressure. 

He’d seen Hannibal take all sorts of pain, in varying places with various implements, and he almost always took it in silence. He’d barely even flinched, truth be told, nothing noticeable to anyone other than Will, even when others would’ve been begging for it to stop. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the frame of mind he was currently in, only tensing minutely under Will’s attention. Minutes passed and Will’s confidence with the strap grew, blows falling harder over Hannibal’s backside. His skin grew from pink to red, flushing brightly with every new stripe. All the while, Hannibal remained quiet, and frustratingly, he grew even more still, whereas Will could barely contain the rapidly growing lust he felt at seeing the man in such a state. 

“You’re not with me,” Will accused, gently, trying not to sound breathless. 

Hannibal rolled his shoulders as much as he could, then turned his head Will’s direction. “I’m here.” As usual, his voice was steady. Will felt ready to burst with want. 

“You’re not. You’re in your head.” 

“I-,” Hannibal cut his words short and inhaled slowly as Will dropped the strap hard across his ass, eyes falling shut. “I’m trying.”

“Let me _see_ you,” Will urged, all but desperate. “Not the person you've created for the outside world.” Another harsh slap of leather on Hannibal's thigh. “You.” Across his shoulder blade. “Lover.” Stretching across his ribs. “Murderer.” 

Hannibal drew his knees beneath him, shaking as a needy sound formed in the back of his throat. “Will…”

“The man that kills for me and then loves me like no other.” Will swung, three quick straps across Hannibal's ass. 

“Oh, _God_ , Will,” Hannibal sobbed, finally, _finally_ , voice raw, back arching. “Harder, please. More. Anything.”

Will sighed heavily, pleasure rippling through him. “Good boy. No more silence, no more retreating into your mind.” Will dragged the strap down the length of Hannibal's spine, then snapped it hard across the center. “Give me everything.”

Will's arm ached with exertion, painting designs over Hannibal's bruised flesh and committing every soft moan, ragged breath, gentle sigh that left Hannibal’s lips. Each new stripe had Hannibal arching up, physically reaching for more even as he bellowed into the pillow beneath him. On a particular hard stroke against the inside of his thigh, Hannibal froze, head lifting off the pillow for a moment before he shook hard and growled, back bowing. 

“Will…”

Will shuddered, pride blooming through him at Hannibal’s open expressions as he dropped the strap and dragged his hand roughly over the red swell. “Christ, I want to be inside you. I want to feel the heat from welts I've given you while I fuck you.”

“Please,” Hannibal groaned, agonized and debauched.

Quickly, Will released the snaps on the cuffs, freeing Hannibal's arms and coaxing him onto his back. Hannibal hissed through his teeth as his abused flesh pressed into the bed, but Will quieted it with a kiss. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” Will said against his lips, sliding his palm over Hannibal's slick chest. “I wish everyone could see how I've undone you.”

Hannibal squirmed and fisted the sheets, then gripped his cock, stroking quickly.

“You like that idea,” Will grinned as he removed his jeans. “I'll have to find you an audience one day. Stop,” he said forcefully when he saw Hannibal's stomach clench.

Groaning pitifully, Hannibal resumed his clutch of the sheets, head turned to stare longingly at Will's exposed cock. He licked his lips as Will stepped close. 

“Just a taste,” Will murmured, leaning over to press the head against Hannibal's mouth, bracing one palm against the headboard. 

Moaning softly, Hannibal nudged his tongue against the slit, gathering the leaking fluid with a grateful sigh. 

“Christ,” Will whispered as he looked down, knees buckling a bit and he couldn't stop himself from sliding into the warm velvet of Hannibal's mouth. He saw Hannibal's hips arch up, swollen cock bouncing against his belly as he sucked harder. Will saw stars. “Have to stop, before I lose all control and finish in your throat.”

He moved to settle between Hannibal's thighs, slicking his unsteady fingers with lube. 

“My goal, in this moment, is not to hurt you,” Will breathed, sliding one finger inside as he watched Hannibal's face. “Tell me if it's too much.”

Hannibal grunted, circling his hips and then exhaling slowly. “It won't be, I assure you. You don't have to be so careful. I'm not entirely inexperienced in this aspect.”

Will growled and bit at Hannibal's thigh, unsure whether he was overwhelmed with arousal or jealousy. Probably both. 

“Not with anyone other than myself, and only a number of times,” Hannibal sighed, dropping his head back. “More, please.”

It was definitely arousal, then, strong enough to speed Will's hand marginally as he pushed in a second finger. He gripped Hannibal's cock, thumbing the head.

“I'm going to see that one day. Have you find your own pleasure while I watch.”

“Will,” Hannibal choked, clutching Will's wrist to slow his hand. “I'm painfully close. Please, it's enough. Truly.”

Will tried to slow his racing heart as he readied himself, dizzy and overwrought with the need to claim, to mark. He wanted to crawl inside Hannibal and live in his skin. Keep Hannibal like this, desperately his, forever. 

“You're shaking,” Hannibal mused as Will leaned over him, blunt tip pressed to him.

Will braced one palm on the pillow while the other slid over Hannibal's neck. “The things I could do to you… the things you make me feel are unexplainable.” He eased forward, breath hitching at the tight heat. “I want to break open your chest, count your heartbeats in my palm, feel your pulse quicken and stumble beneath my lips.”

Hannibal breathed harshly through clenched teeth, digging his nails into Will's shoulders as Will slowly entered him. “ _Please, please_.”

“Peel away every layer until you're nothing but blood and bone.” Will’s cock pulsed as Hannibal clenched around him and he had to pause, just for a moment, to avoid rushing forward. Nothing had ever felt so overwhelmingly amazing. 

“It's terrifying,” he exclaimed roughly, once he was fully seated.

“It's astonishing,” Hannibal whispered, tone stricken with awe. “Will, I cannot explain-”

“You don't have to,” Will panted. “I know. I feel it. Every day.”

Tentatively, Will pulled back, just a fraction, and pushed back in, forcing a guttural noise from Hannibal. Suddenly, Will couldn't breathe, pressure mounting quickly in the pit of his stomach.

“Don't move,” Will gritted out. “I'll come.”

“That's- me, too. Me, too. Please,” Hannibal pleaded, nails digging into Will's back. 

“I'm sorry,” Will growled, canting his hips. “I wanted,” he withdrew, only to bottom out just as quickly, grunting, “this to be different.”

Will wanted it to be slower, more controlled, a pace that allowed him to catalogue and memorize every single emotion Hannibal felt through it all. Will wanted many things, but release had, once again, worked its way to the top of the list.

“Perfect. You're perfect. Harder, please,” Hannibal rambled breathlessly, arching up to meet Will's harsh thrusts.

Will could feel sweat forming along his spine, Hannibal's nails slipping on his skin. Everything burned as he chased the edge, quickly sitting up to wrap his hand around Hannibal's throat and squeezing.

“Fucking come. Let me feel you come while I'm inside you. _Just_ from me being inside you.”

Looking down at Hannibal, flushed cheeks and lip between his teeth, straining for air Will wouldn't give him, Will wasn't sure he could last. He squeezed tighter, snapped his hips upward and Hannibal's eyes clenched shut, brow drawn and mouthed Will's name. 

“Good boy,” Will sighed, letting Hannibal gasp for air as soon as the first wave of sticky warmth hit his belly. “Such a good fucking boy. Amazing. Mine, all fucking mine.”

Hannibal was still tensed when Will thrust hard one last time and came, white noise in his ears as he shook. Hannibal moaned weakly, fingers slipping over Will's forearm as the last vestiges of pleasure coursed through him. 

Collapsing, Will kissed Hannibal hard, chests heaving against one another. After a few moments, Will pulled back, looking into hazy amber eyes. Hannibal looked drugged, eyelids heavy and his jaw slack, even as he trembled all over. 

Slowly, Will rolled onto his side, gathering Hannibal in his arms and kissing his hair. Hannibal clung to him, nuzzling his face against Will's chest.

“Never dreamed it could be like this,” Hannibal whispered, seemingly to himself. He was still squirming slightly, like Will was still inside him, kissing every bit of Will's skin he could reach and digging weak fingers into Will's flesh.

Will couldn't speak, he could only nod as his hands traced the fevered welts on Hannibal's back, getting another soft moan from him. 

When their breathing had finally returned to normal, Will murmured. “What does it say about me that I'm tempted to track down and bludgeon everyone else that's ever seen you like this?”

“That you were imagined solely for me. But you wouldn't have to go far, darling. There's only you.”

Will’s heart pounded at the term of endearment, so foreign from Hannibal’s lips. He sounded far away, like he was floating and utterly dazed. Will couldn’t hide his smugness. 

“You look disgustingly pleased with yourself,” Hannibal slurred, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“I am,” Will agreed, all but beaming. “You look content. Happy, even. It’s a beautiful look, and I’m taking full credit. Expect gloating.” 

“You’re going to be insufferable from this point forward, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

Hannibal snuggled closer. “I'm quite okay with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading my little fic! The comments were so amazing, I love you all! I'd like to apologize for the wait for this last chapter. The boys wanted it to be much more angsty, so I couldn't get the mood right. Damn it, Hannibal, stop being so dramatic for a little while, please? Anyway, I might add more little snipits of these two at a later date, if the muse strikes again. 
> 
> Come see me on Tumblr! http://hannigramandromancek.tumblr.com/


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